top of page

When I first meet my learners, I frame our time together by saying that I'll have them practice again and again to reinforce what they do. And I've come up with my own way of phrasing it: myelinate your neurons.

The body surrounds neurons with myelin, and the more the pathway gets used, the more it gets myelinated. And so I carry that analogy forward to my learners - they must make an attempt to apply what they have studied. It's one thing for the knowledge to be kept somewhere in their memory - it's another thing entirely to draw that information out and use it during clinical encounters.

I usually add that I've done these maneuvers hundreds of times more than they have, so now is their chance to work on growing their skills. Plus they get the benefit of having direct feedback! So that's the vibe that I like to have in our learning sessions - a space for to try and to stumble and to tweak and to adjust.


As I cleared clutter of my home office this past weekend, I wondered whether part of adulthood is acquiring the stuff you wished for as a kid.

One of the boxes had hockey magazines and equipment catalogues and newspaper clippings that I collected when I was younger. While my family wasn't in a position to enroll me in hockey, I could at least imagine playing for my hometown team with my favorite players - while wearing the coolest gear, of course. Maybe reviewing player statistics and equipment specs over and over ended up being practice for skills I'd need in medical school.

Hockey has become my easy talking point during conversations in and out of medicine, and it gives me a jumping point to ask others what they like to collect. Unsurprisingly, their interest often ties back to something from their childhood, and having a sense of their past gives me some context about who they are now.












I find that my mind picks up on opportunities for optimization and efficiency. While that perspective is helpful to come up with new ideas and projects, I can become paralyzed waiting for perfect conditions.

One way I'm trying to grow is to embrace making small changes at a time - to make incremental tweaks enough to soothe whatever glaring inefficiency that mind cannot unsee. I can't always wait for everything to align to orchestrate the perfect move that proceeds in the sequence that I envision for it to unfold.

One satisfying project that I took on this summer was optimizing my work station. I finally ordered parts so that they were in my hands and in my office rather than occupying space in my brain for months on end. And once the first pieces came together, I was reminded that taking a step created the momentum I needed!

With one less project on my mind and the summer break wrapped up, I'm feeling refreshed for the fall ahead!

bottom of page